Respect Is Earned
by pizzazz8my8luv
Summary: Greenly is determined to someday earn Smecker's respect.  Based on a deleted scene from the first movie.  Warning: Proceed with caution!  Re-posted and slightly re-vamped. F-word count - 10


**Respect is Earned**

**Greenly is determined to someday earn Smecker's respect. Based on a deleted scene from the first movie. Warning: Proceed with caution! **

**In case you were wondering, yes this is slash, no this is not twincest, C/M, IBL, or what ever you want to call it. This is Smecker/Greenly and I'm pretty sure there is nothing of the like in the fandom thus far. Maybe I can start a new trend? As much as I love C/M, we're running out of material for that sort of thing honestly. We need new ships!**

**EDIT: I went in here and changed and added a few things because I realized that it just wasn't flowing very well. I hope the small yet significant things I changed worked the way I wanted them too. Thanks to Rosette C. H. for pointing out some of the things that were wrong. Hopefully, I have fixed them.**

**Oh, and I never did put in a thank you to my beta (who did point out a few of the same things Rosette did, I just chose not to listen to her) the beautiful and talented MadreLoca, who I was surprised agreed to beta read slash. I am sorry for not listening, I will not make that error in judgment again.**

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Detective David Greenly asked himself every time _it_ happened why things always led to_ this_, why he was always paying for his own stupidity on his back, on his knees, or any position he managed to get himself twisted into (figuratively and literally) What would his father say, what would his his Princeton graduate, testosterone driven, _homophobic _father, God rest his soul, say if he saw his only son the way he was now, on his knees with a dick in his mouth, especially with someone who was heading the investigation he was working on? He'd be so god damn mother fucking proud of his cock-sucking little David. _Shit._

He asked himself every _day why_ he had to be such a fucking idiot. It was getting to the point where he would go get a latte with Sweet 'n Low when he saw Paul coming just to save time, especially after the Coplay Plaza incident. A lot of things changed after that, but not the fact that he constantly felt the stupidest, most pathetic man who's ever walked the earth and who should never in a million years have made detective.

How _did_ he make detective, anyway, he wondered. Oh yeah, he let the Captain fuck him. Twice. He might have gotten the promotion that he never accused himself of deserving, but afterward, the Captain and anyone else who found out lost any respect they may have had for him.

Respect. What Paul said to him at the Plaza echoed in in his empty head constantly.

"_He's struck again, hasn't he Greenly?" the FBI agent mocked as he stepped through the doorway. "The big-footed frigin' huge guy is back, hu?"_

_David withdrew as far as he could in is seat when Paul got comfortable on his lap. "Why are you always fucking with me like this? What's with the disrespect?"_

_Paul leaned in closer to David's face. "Respect is earned, Greenly. Never given." He sat up and strutted away towards the bloody crime scene and the bodies of eight (wait, no...Shit! Nine!) Russian Mobsters. "Guy's like you should have to follow me around squabbling for the scraps from my table." _

He played that scene in his mind over and over again, that and _"How many bodies, Greenly?"_ Why did it always end up like this, he wondered for the millionth time. First with the Captain and now with some egotistic FBI agent. His desperation to prove...to earn...always led him to incidents like this. But to prove what? To earn what? He sure as hell wasn't proving that he was smart. He certainly wasn't earning respect. Maybe it was just his own twisted logic that made him believe he could prove he was fearless in a sense and thus earn some sort of respect. Was he fearless? Or was he just a slut? At any rate, here he was contemplating his own stupidity and determined that the man he now knelt in front of would someday respect him, that he would _earn_ this man's respect somehow.

David was completely naked, Paul's pants were laying around somewhere, his shirt was unbuttoned and his tie was slung over his shoulders. David stared up at Paul's face that held no expression. If he didn't have the evidence in his mouth, he would have never even guessed that Paul was turned on. David new he would never elicit any sort of moan or sigh of pleasure from this proud man, but the least he hoped for was _some sort_ of hint that the man was enjoying this. As his head bobbed up and down like a piston, he hopped that that this was one thing that he could not fuck up, that he would not be seen as a _complete_ moron in _every_ aspect. He felt Paul's grip on the back of his head tighten painfully as he exhaled a deep breath that hissed through clenched teeth, and he thought that just possibly for once in his pathetic life that he was doing something right. Then again, blowjobs aren't exactly brain science...rocket surgery...what the fuck ever.

Maybe that's why he did it. Perhaps that was the reason that he always ended up being treated like a whore; because being fucked senseless was quite possibly the only thing he was good at.

Paul suddenly pulled himself out of David's mouth and opened his eyes. With two growled words, he commanded David. "Bed. Now."

David had only just begun to stand when Paul seemingly became impatient, grabbed his arm and yanked him to his feet. The detective was almost certain he saw a hint of a snarl on the agent's face just before he felt himself being shoved face down onto the bed. He felt Paul climb on top of him quickly followed by two wet fingers briefly trailing across his tight entrance. He felt himself tense. He knew this would only make it hurt worse, but he couldn't help it. He clenched his eyes closed when he heard the distinct crackle of a condom wrapper.

_Oh, god. This is it._

Paul gave no warning, no "are you ready," no preparation, and no easing in. An instant wave of sharp pain flooded David as Paul entered him with one brutal thrust and he tried to hold back the scream that he felt rising within him. It was to intense to fully contain, so all that came out was a squeak (a fucking _squeak_, god damn it) and a choked cry. At least Paul had the courtesy to let David adjust before he continued. After a moment or so the pain left as the intensity turned to pleasure. As much as it sickened him that this was happening, he had to admit that he greatly enjoyed the feeling of being penetrated and filled, at least physically. Motives be damned, he _needed_ it weather he _wanted_ it or not.

David let himself give in and soon his cries and moans mingled with Paul's pants and grunts. David cried out when he felt himself reaching his peak, "Ah, FUCK!"

And so Paul did, as hard as he could, it seamed. David screamed a mingling of "oh, god," and "fuck yes," when plummeted over the edge. He was followed closely by Paul, who paused only briefly before pounding into David with the last and hardest thrust and a triumphant cry.

* * *

They both had there post-fuck cigarette and Paul turned on the television. A pretty reporter named Sally McBride pulled her scarf around her neck with one hand an gripped the microphone with the other. Paul had stopped on the news channel just as she wrapped up her news updates. "...and it can clearly be shown that the death of the Russian mob soldiers in this ally was nothing more then a case of two brothers acting in self defense. Back to you, Pat." Paul shook his head and switched the television off.

David was on the opposite side of the bed from Paul. He was, believe it or not, smart enough to realize that Paul was not the post-coital cuddling type.

"Well," Paul spoke for the first time since their encounter, "there's your huge guy, Green-beans. All wrapped up."

David rolled his eyes. "Do you have to throw that at me again?" Paul only grinned and cocked any eyebrow in response. "Hay maybe they rally are huge. I mean, you know, _huge_?" His ill-humored sexual innuendo got no response from Paul, so he just kept talking. "I'd like to think they are. At least Murphy." He punctuated his last sentence with a whistle and turned around to face Paul. "And you?"

"Me what?"

"Well, do you think about the brothers that way?"

Paul nodded slightly. "I'll admit, they are...attractive to say the least. Especially Conner. However," Paul flung the covers off of his naked body and started to walk towards the bedroom door.

"However what? You wouldn't fuck him?"

Paul stopped in the doorway and slowly turned back to face the confused cop in his bed. "Let me make one thing clear, Greenly," the use of his last name was meant to signal an end to "lover" mode, "Conner MacManus is a beautiful man. But never in a million years would I dream of having any sort of sexual relation with him."

"Why the hell not?"

Paul gave an impatient sigh. "Because I never fuck men I respect."

As David watched Paul leave the room and heard the bathroom door open and close again, he felt all of his guilt pool back into his stomach. Paul had just made it very clear to him that he was nothing more than a fuck toy, very clear that he still had no respect for the Boston detective. It was very clear that he never would. But that didn't mean that David would stop his futile attempt to earn Paul's respect, didn't mean that he would ever stop trying to prove himself worthy.

But worthy of what?


End file.
